


Undisclosed Desires

by Cinnamongirl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Accidental Soul Bond, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crack and Angst, F/M, Voiceverse, possible consent issues, which is now my favorite tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 09:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15410214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamongirl/pseuds/Cinnamongirl
Summary: All mages are born with a soulmate--a voice they hear in the darkness of the Fade all their lives. The lucky ones find their soulmates and forge a bond strong enough to threaten the very foundations of the Chantry.Every mage knows that they have a soulmate but it's entirely possible for their soulmate to go their entire lives without realizing it. They could meet the other half of their soul (and even, hypothetically, sleep with them less than 24 hours after trying to assassinate them) without having any idea.





	Undisclosed Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [By Any Other Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566736) by [delazeur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delazeur/pseuds/delazeur), [Khirsah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/pseuds/Khirsah). 



> This is the result of my speculations about what would happen if my Warden lived in [Khirsah's wonderful Voiceverse soulmate AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/405085). 
> 
> For a longer (and gayer) Voiceverse spinoff, check out my other story [With Hearts of Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064829/chapters/29884641). 
> 
> I also highly recommend [Part of Your World by threehundredthirtythree](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9857108/chapters/22119260), [Frost Flowers by Aly_H](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12067983/chapters/27333939), and [Experimental Files by Sasskarian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460547/chapters/30856986).

This was hardly the first time that Zevran had successfully seduced his way out of getting killed, but it usually took at least a minute or two. He’d barely started in on his pitch when the Warden said “Yes, all right, you can join us,” and then knelt down to untie him.

She fit the description that Loghain had given him of the Warden recruit Salome Amell, but nobody had prepared him for how compelling she would be. There was just _something_ about her. Zevran noticed bright red hair sticking out from underneath her astonishingly ugly hat, and a curvy body that was obscured by bulky mage robes. He wanted to see what else she was hiding. He _wanted_ her, full stop, with an intensity that surprised him.

Zevran tried to get up once he was free, only to realize that his injuries were worse than he’d realized.

“Hold on, let me heal you first.” It turned out that he had several broken ribs and a large burn, along with countless smaller injuries, but she was able to use her magic to heal all of them without any apparent difficulty.

“Your skill has improved a lot since I taught you,” said an older woman who was watching the process. (Another mage, and a very powerful one. Best to kill her while she’s unaware, ideally while she’s asleep.)

“I have gotten a lot of practice recently, yes,” Amell replied without turning to look at her. 

She focused on Zevran. “How are you feeling?”

“Better every moment, especially with your hands on me.” It was actually quite uncomfortable process and he didn’t even know why he was continuing to flirt with her when she’d already agreed to spare him. Habit, probably.

“I’m happy to hear it.” She looked around to make sure that nobody was watching them and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Meet me in my tent tonight.” Her breath was warm.

This was certainly more familiar territory. Zevran gave her a lascivious grin, already looking forward to that evening.

 

That night, the third mage (skilled but arrogant- convince her that she’s already won and she’ll let her guard down) and the Qunari (strong but slow- dodge and slit his throat as soon as possible) were on watch, but Zevran could hardly call himself an assassin if he couldn’t get past two people without being noticed. Amell was awake and waiting for him. 

They didn’t speak to each other. She kissed him sweetly, almost like a lover would, and lifted up his leather skirt and her robes so that he could guide himself into her.

She was clearly very good at this but there was no reason at all for a quiet, rushed encounter with a near-stranger, on the ground, in _Ferelden_ to be the best sex of his life—and yet somehow it was. He concluded that she must be using some kind of invisible magic to enhance the experience. Not that he minded at all. 

He felt connected to her, in more than the obvious way. It was difficult to articulate but it almost felt like there was something linking them together and he welcomed it, for reasons that he didn’t fully understand.

Zevran left afterward, not wanting to risk the damage to her reputation if he was caught in her tent the next morning. He had a strange thought that she was disappointed, even though she’d been satisfied and happy a moment ago, but he dismissed it.

 

The next day started out in what seemed to be the normal fashion for them. They packed up camp, walked a lot, and fought the occasional bandits and wild animals that got in their way. They were apparently heading for the dwarven city of Orzammar. 

It certainly seemed like this life he’d signed up for was much better than the one he’d left. Their little group argued frequently, but they looked out for each other and they made sure to divide the work evenly. They were ruthless toward their enemies but they were never needlessly cruel. Zevran was even allowed to eat as much as he wanted, for the first time in his life.

In addition to being a skilled lover, Warden Amell was a competent—if inexperienced—leader, and she appreciated Zevran’s sense of humor. The only thing he couldn’t understand was why she was constantly confused. She didn’t say anything to that effect and it wasn’t visible on her face or in her body language, but he somehow knew that it was true.

Once he started paying attention to it, Zevran realized that he was noticing other small things about her, like how he could tell that she was annoyed when Morrigan criticized her decisions and amused at Alistair’s dumb jokes. (There would be no chance of defeating the other Warden in a fair fight, but he was trusting to a fault. It would probably be laughably easy to poison him.) There was one moment when he had the sudden idea that Amell was happy, only to turn around and see that she was smiling at him. She noticed him watching her and looked away, embarrassed.

He could _feel_ her embarrassment. He didn’t know how but he could feel it more strongly than any of his own emotions. Zevran wondered if it might be an effect of being a Warden, but Alistair didn’t seem to be projecting anything like this. He also considered that it might have something to do with her being a mage, but he couldn’t feel what Morrigan or Wynne were feeling, either. Perhaps it was a combination of the two factors, or something unique to Amell herself? None of the rest of their party seemed to notice what she was feeling, but it could just be that they’d all gotten used to it before Zevran joined them.

 

He could feel that she wanted him to visit her again that night, and her joy and arousal were strong when she heard him enter her tent.

This time, they took more time to explore each other with their hands and mouths. The strange connection between them was back, just as strong as last night, only this time he was more aware of it and he could tell immediately what she liked and disliked. She seemed to be similarly aware of his responses and it was even better than it had been the night before.

“Do you want me to stay the night?” He asked the question as quietly as possible, once he was sure that she was relaxed and content. 

She felt happiness and relief at his words but she only said “If you like.”

“I suppose I will, then.”

 

Leliana was the only one who noticed him leaving her tent the next morning, but she didn’t say anything. (Possibly the most dangerous member of the group. Ally with her if possible.)

The day started out the same as the last, but less than an hour after they’d started walking, Amell noticed something that made her startled and afraid and eager to fight. She glanced over at Alistair, who nodded. 

She addressed the group. “There are darkspawn coming, probably a large group of them. Be ready.”

The darkspawn were on them before they could prepare themselves, but Zevran couldn’t possibly have been prepared for what it was like to face these monsters. They were the most horrible thing he’d ever seen, and their stench was even worse. It was at least a small relief to discover that his blades could kill them just like anything else.

He’d just finished stabbing a particularly nasty-looking one to death when he felt that Amell had been hit. He could feel it burning, searing, worse than any pain he’d ever felt, but he somehow knew that he was uninjured and that she was the one who was badly hurt. Zevran staggered and almost tripped as he felt her fall down, too weak to stand. 

He knew that he needed to go to her and try to save her, but he didn’t have potions or injury kits or anything that could potentially be useful. She would probably at least have something that could be used for bandages, but they would both be vulnerable in the time it took him to look through her pack and try to bandage her. She was stable for the moment, he could feel it. The best thing for him to do would be to try to kill the other darkspawn as quickly as possible so that Wynne could heal her without being interrupted. He knew that, and yet he also couldn’t think about anything other than her pain and fear, and the result was that he felt like he was running through water. He tried to stagger toward one of the other darkspawn, but it was hard to move and even harder to think clearly. His vision started to blur.

Zevran wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he became aware that all of the darkspawn were dead and that he’d somehow ended up kneeling on the ground. Something smooth was pressed into his hand. 

“Can you drink it? I’d pour it in your mouth but you’re out of it enough that I’m worried you’d try to bite me.”

He blinked several times and shook his head. His vision was still fuzzy but he could make out that Alistair was hovering over him and that there was a healing potion in his hand.

“I think I can handle it,” he managed to say. His voice even sounded weak. 

Alistair must have been convinced because he left to tend to someone else, while Zevran forced himself to open the bottle and drink it down. It had the same, almost-rancid taste that they always did and he could feel it tingling in his throat, but it didn’t do anything to stop the pain. Of course, he realized, the pain he was feeling wasn’t his own.

He didn’t know how much longer he stayed there before he suddenly felt completely fine, as if nothing had happened to him. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of him and he could breathe easily and see clearly. It was a relief to be able to focus his mind again. He stood up without any trouble and saw that Amell was also starting to get up. He realized that none of the rest of their party had been affected by her injury. Whatever strange force was connecting him to her, it was only between the two of them.

 

They stopped to rest after the battle. He approached Amell while she and Wynne were brewing more potions to replace the ones they’d used.

“Excuse me, Warden?”

“Hmm?” She barely glanced at him but he could feel the warmth bubbling up inside of her at the sound of his voice.

“This sounds ridiculous, but ever since yesterday I have been able to feel what you feel and I was hoping you could explain why.”

The bottle that she’d been holding crashed to the ground. “Shit, you’ve been able to feel it too?”

“I’d been wondering why your magic is so much stronger.” Wynne looked very unhappy. “I assume that Zevran is your Voice and you couldn’t even wait a few days before taking him to bed?” His first thought was that she was overreacting, but if she was talking about what he thought she was talking about, the decision to have sex with Amell had been one of the most dangerous and controversial acts of his life and he hadn’t even realized it.

“I didn’t know it would do this!” He could feel that she was almost sick with shame.

“You didn’t think about the ramifications of forming a bond while you’re in the middle of trying to stop the Blight? How could you be so foolish?”

“I didn’t know, okay? We both know that they don’t teach us anything beyond ‘Don’t talk about Voices and definitely never look for your Voice.’ I didn’t plan any of this! Somebody told me that it would make my magic more powerful and it would be harder for demons to possess me, and then he just found me and offered to join us.”

“You _slept with him?!_ ” Alistair had apparently decided to join the conversation. The four of them were standing in an angry little circle, while the rest of the group watched with varying degrees of subtlety.

“Do you have a problem with that?” She was still shocked and embarrassed, but she was starting to get mad.

“Of course I have a problem with it, he tried to kill us!”

“You have no idea what he’s been through!” Amell glared at Wynne and Alistair, her voice furious. “Not that it’s any of your business, but you have no right to judge him.”

“Zevran, do you know what Voices are?” Wynne sounded kinder now, but he wasn’t fooled.

“Very little, he admitted. “I have heard that every mage has a soulmate somewhere, but the idea is generally considered dangerous and heretical.”

“She has been able to watch your dreams, possibly since you were both children. She knew that you were her Voice but she somehow neglected to mention it to you before taking you to bed, and now the two of you are bonded together for the rest of your lives. Maker only knows how this is going to affect her chances of recruiting people to stop the Blight.”

The mabari walked up to Amell and nudged her with a large paw, as if it could also feel that she was close to tears. (A good boy. Do not harm unless absolutely necessary.)

“Enough,” Zevran hissed at them. “She has been leading all of you and taking the responsibility that no one else will accept-” he glared at Alistair “-and you have the gall to criticize her personal decisions?”

“They’re already defending each other. How sweet.” Morrigan didn’t even try to pretend that she hadn’t been listening from across the camp. She sounded slightly disgusted.

Amell looked at Zevran, resolutely ignoring everyone else. Her body was visibly tense. “I think we need to talk. In private.” 

“Of course.”

Someone scoffed as they left but nobody tried to stop them. He and Amell picked their way through the woods until they decided that they were probably within shouting distance of everyone else, but they couldn’t be overheard easily.

“Look, I know I should have told you but I didn't want to make things weird, and I really didn’t know it was going to affect you like this. They don’t tell us any of this shit in the Circle but then they expect us to know everything…” She trailed off, irritated. 

“Have you really been watching my dreams?”

“It took me a long time to find you in the Fade and I can’t do it every night, but yes.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t believe me.”

“Can you blame me?”

She sighed. “You’re half-Dalish. You tried to join one of their clans when you were younger. Your dreams are kind of vague about what they did to you, exactly, but you ran back to the Crows and didn’t try to leave again even though they beat you and starved you. You’ve killed children and you say that you don’t feel guilty about it but you actually do. You came to Ferelden to die, because of what happened with the woman you’re always dreaming about, the one who has pretty eyes. You-” she suddenly felt guilty and trailed off. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

There was no point in denying it, so he didn’t say anything.

“When I was younger, I used to fantasize that you’d find some way to break into the Circle and rescue me, and then we’d run away to be pirates or something. I never thought I’d actually find you.”

“Remind me to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. He could feel her confusion and shame and worry but beneath that, he could feel the connection between them, more strong and solid than anything he’d ever known. 

“So, it seems that I am your Voice. Now that you’ve found me, what do you intend to do with me?”

There was another flare of guilt. “I know you made a vow to me but I’m not going to hold you to that. If you want to leave, I’ll give you some money and food and as many daggers as you can carry and I promise not to look for you again.”

“And what if I choose to stay, instead?”

She frowned, but there was something warm inside her that he didn’t know the name for. “You don’t have to coddle me. You’ve had this exciting, dangerous life and I’ve been in the Circle since I was seven, not to mention that I don’t know anything about romance or love and I’d probably be really bad at it. Oh, and I’m slowly dying of the taint. Can’t forget that.”

He could feel her sadness but he didn’t know what to do about it. “You don’t know anything about love?”

“In the Circle, everybody fucks everybody because there’s nothing else to do, but most people try to avoid getting emotionally attached to anyone because it’s just something for the templars to use against you if you get on their bad side. I’d probably fail horribly if I tried to love somebody.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that I am in a similar predicament. As you probably know, I grew up among those who sold the illusion of love, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. I'm just as ignorant as you are in these matters.” _Love_ was a strange, abstract concept that he didn't deserve, if it even existed, but the bond between them was real. There was no reason to over-complicate it.

“I honestly meant it when I said that you’re free to leave any time you want. I know you’ve spent most of your life as little more than a slave and I don’t want to tie you down, except maybe literally- Oh you like that idea, don’t you?” She grinned at him.

It was certainly fun to think about, but he couldn’t let himself get distracted. “Why do you keep bringing up the idea of me leaving if it makes you sad?” He could feel the sorrow pulling at her from the inside.

“I’m not sad, you’re the one who’s sad. Can’t you feel it?”

“In that case, it’s unfortunate that we’re spending so much time being sad when the Archdemon could step on us at any moment and render this entire conversation pointless.” None of this made any sense and he had no idea how to be someone’s Voice but he didn’t want to leave.

“That would be unfortunate, yes.” She was still sad but she was more confused, which was a positive improvement.

“Allow me to make a suggestion. I will remain with you for the time being. I will fight alongside you and share your bed for as long as we both desire it. If we are still alive when the Blight ends, we can decide what to do next.”

She was overcome with relief and something else—hope, maybe?—but her expression was guarded. “That sounds like a very good idea.” She smiled and stepped closer to him. “I really didn’t mean to drag you into any of this, but you’ve been so-”

He cut her off with a kiss. She made a surprised noise against his mouth, but it wasn’t long before she deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his. It was different from their previous kisses, perhaps because it wasn’t a prelude to sex this time. Now that he knew what it was, Zevran could feel the bond between them clearly. It was strong but flexible and it would stretch to keep them connected them no matter how far apart they were.

Eventually, she pulled back far enough to look at him. “We should get back to camp,” she said.

“Are you ready to face everyone?”

She nodded. He could feel that she was calmer now. “As long as I’ve got you on my side, I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me.”

They held hands as they made their way back to camp. The entire situation was absurd, really- he was apparently bonded for life to his soulmate, who he’d tried to kill two days ago, and both of them could die at any moment. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, and neither did she, but for now he knew that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.


End file.
